


Golden

by DabblesinDrabbles



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 02:33:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6734419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DabblesinDrabbles/pseuds/DabblesinDrabbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>No matter who they are, where they are, or when they are they are myths and legends always destined to find their way back to each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Golden

**Author's Note:**

> So this started as a small idea I kept having of Kaner being Apollo and Jonny being Icarus and well it just kinda grew into this monster idea of reincarnation and soulmates? It kept bugging me until I sat down and typed it up (anything to get away from Finals) This is my first time writing anything like this so I hope I did alright.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I hope you enjoy it :) I appreciate any and all comments, criticisms or advice!

            The first life you truly remember you are a young man named Icarus. Your dark eyes are keen and intelligent, hiding an ingenious mind and immeasurable bravery. He is a God; literally, his golden curls and deep blue eyes shine with the light from the very Sun he commands. You hear him play his lyre in the sky calling to you, tempting you to follow him into his world. He visits you at night when his sister Artemis has hung the Moon, his lips filled with mischief and thrumming with power. “Icarus,” he whispers his voice saying your name as if it is an oath, “you should fly with me.” He presses kisses to your skin that burn until he leaves again. You spend months crafting your wings in secret; you never tell him your plan until the morning you stand on your tower’s roof with the wind on your back. You allow his Sun’s rays to heat your face, your eyes close as you leap to soar to him. The myth they write about you, Icarus the boy who chased the Sun, is used to caution others against foolishness they claim you fell for pride but you know that you fell for a God with a honey voice, golden curls, and eyes as blue as the sky he ruled.

          In another life he is again a figure too high for you, a son of a King and you his most trusted protector. He is dark haired in this life but his eyes are still that deep blue and you can see the ancient power of Apollo still swirling in their depths. You have to be more careful in this life; your people now are not like the Greeks they cannot accept your bond with their Prince. You sneak in secretive rushed kisses and small touches as you dress him for tournaments, he ruffles your long hair and threatens to take the shears to it but you know he secretly loves to pull you into kisses with your warrior’s bread. In this life he is forced to marry and you head to battle in his name, you never return to his service seeing him with his future Queen is too much.

        He finds you first this time; you’ve fought the Nazi occupiers who dared take your beautiful city of Paris, you’ve helped liberate your home. He moves in with his battalion, these loud and brash Americans who try to claim that they freed France and its people. He is young and so are you, too young to have blood on your hands and too young to have been involved in a war as cruel as this. You argue and you snark but before you know it you’ve fallen for this infuriating man who will leave you to return across the ocean. He learns French for you though his accent is atrocious; he whispers that you are his life, his love, and his soul into your dark curls as you both hide away in your small apartment. You want to keep him this time; you deserve that for your patience at least. This time he stays; you grow old together walking the streets of Paris and reading the words of your favorite poets. As you lay on your deathbed he grips your hand and whispers, “I know you, I’ll always know you and I promise I will find you again mon soleil.”

        Time passes and passes, you keep finding one another in each life you are the makings of myths and legends, there are epic tales devoted to both of your bravery and loyalty. You always find your way back to each other though sometimes you are ripped away but you both live for the times where you get to grow old together. In all of these different lives sometimes you don’t remember the other lives, sometimes he doesn’t either but you both always feel something. You two who came from the same star who are the halves to one another’s souls, you complete dance after dance with one another and wait for another to begin again.

        It’s June 15th 2015 and your team has won the Stanley Cup again, the third in three years. The cheers and screams deafen you as you rush through your teammates to find Patrick, you spot his sweaty ridiculous curls and stop short. You’ve always felt a connection to Pat, everyone jokes that the two of you are hockey married after all but this feeling is too profound than just being teammates. It’s as if your soul is reaching out to his and then you remember life after life passing endlessly in front of your mind’s eyes and if you two weren’t on the ice right now surrounded by fans, your boys, your family, and the media you would crush your lips to his and tell him everything but for now you put on your Captain face and skate over to accept the Cup for your team and your city. Later, much later, after all of the parties and drinks and congratulations you sit with him on your couch the two of you still high on victory and tell him all that you’ve realized. He sits through your rambling his dark blue eyes giving no emotion away until your words run dry, you wait and fidget nervously ready for him to call you insane and walk out of your life. You’re not ready for the soft smile he sends your way so different from his cocky grins on the ice as he pulls you into a searing kiss, a kiss that reminds you of kisses lifetimes ago that were infused with the Sun. When he finally pulls away to breathe and rests his forehead on yours he laughs, his blue eyes twinkling with mischief as he whispers, “What took you so long to realize the time mon soleil?” In this life you are allowed to be happy with no war to tear you apart, no Gods to separate you, and no need to hide the love you share; in this life you are Jonathan Toews and Patrick Kane Stanley Cup Champions of the Chicago Blackhawks and you couldn’t be happier.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on Tumblr! :D https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sandsoftatooine


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